“This is Mr. Nasmyth,” she said. “You will remember I mentioned him in my letter.”
Waynefleet made the young man a little inclination that was formally courteous. “I am glad to see you are evidently recovering,” he said. “I hope they have made you at home here.” Then he turned to his daughter. “If you could get me some supper–––”
Laura busied herself about the stove, while Waynefleet sat down and talked to Nasmyth about generalities. Waynefleet appeared to be a politician, and he criticized the Government, which, in his opinion, was neglecting the Bush-ranchers shamefully. It was evident that he considered it the duty of the Government to contribute indirectly towards the support of settlers. Then the supper was laid out. As he ate fastidiously, he made a few faintly sardonic observations about the cookery, and, after the girl had brought in a pot of coffee, he frowned at the cup he put down.
“There is one place in Victoria where you can get coffee, as it ought to be, but this is merely roasted wheat,” he said. “You will excuse me from drinking any more of it. As you have probably discovered, Mr. Nasmyth, one has to put up with a good deal in this country. It is in many respects a barbarous land.”
Nasmyth saw the faint flush in Laura Waynefleet’s face, and said nothing. He fancied that he knew the establishment in Victoria to which Waynefleet referred, 29 but it was not one which he had ever visited, or which the smaller Bush-ranchers usually frequented.
Soon after supper, Nasmyth withdrew to the bed, which he had insisted on preparing for himself in the loft above the stables, and it was next day when he spoke to Laura Waynefleet alone.
“I can’t abuse your kindness any longer,” he said. “I must go away.”
The girl looked at him quietly. “You are far from strong yet, and––it must be mentioned––there was not a dollar in your pockets.”
“That is certainly the case;” and Nasmyth flushed a little. “Still, I can get as far as the settlement, and I dare say somebody, who won’t be too hard on me at first, may want a hand. I am really rather a good chopper.”
Laura smiled as she glanced at his face, but it was not its hollowness she was thinking of. Nasmyth had not the appearance of the average chopper.